Tonight when Penny-dog went out for her last walkies, she found a little garden snake on the path. It was dead still, and had obviously been lured out of the ground by the warm weather we've been having, and caught unawares when the cold descended like an icy blanket this afternoon.
I didn't know if it was stunned, or hibernating, or dead, so I tucked Penny back into the house and grabbed my gardening gloves to pick it up and move it out of the yard--drop it into the french drain, or maybe just chuck it over the fence.
But as I went to pick it up, I suddenly found myself crying over this little snake, lying in a still, cold loop, grey-brown scales slick with rain.
Well, I can be ridiculous sometimes. Maybe it's the recent loss of my Lizzie-dog, maybe it's the stress of Mom starting chemo for her leukemia tomorrow, but here I was crying over this stupid little snake. All life seems so sacred to me right now, and every death a sadness.
I ended up putting the snake in the dirt up next to the foundation of the house. I don't know if it would be warmer there or not. I've decided to think that he was just hibernating.
To all my friends out there, ones I've met and who have become friends through sharing my books, take care of yourselves. It's cold outside, and the world is a troubled place. Button up your coats and stay safe.
*I feel like this post should come with a warning. I will be back to my perky self soon, dear readers, never fear. At least I'm blogging again, even if it does comes with 200% more emo.